《Vigor Mortis》45. Lonely Genocide
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She’s dead. My friend is dead. Penta’s soul floats lifelessly inside me, like so many others have and will. She died in there, so I never even had to collect her. Her body drips down my spine, her little soul-tendrils hang limply. She is inert and lifeless, waiting to be used like any other soul within me.
I grab her, trying to push her back into that goopy form. I know it won’t work even as I attempt it, over and over. One by one, my tendrils wrap around her, lightly poking and squeezing, trying to elicit some sort of response… but there’s nothing. Not a single reaction, twitch, or change. Her being is in stasis, waiting for its ultimate fate after death. I feel part of me wanting that fate to be consumption, and nearly vomit.
“Vita?” Penelope asks slowly. “Are you all right?”
“Of course not. You killed her,” I accuse, glaring up at her.
“Sorry,” she answers, and a bit of my bubbling rage pops in surprise when she sounds genuinely contrite. “It was the only way to save you. When I saw Penta was still in control of your body during the toast, I knew this could happen. You needed to drink the poison, Vita!”
“They were all supposed to die to the poison!”
“It’s fast-acting, not instant. Of course the stronger slimes would have time to try and escape! They just wouldn’t have been able to if everyone was properly poisoned!”
Damnit. Damnit, she’s right! I fucked up! It was all going so well, but I fucked it all up at the last second!
Penelope sighs, walking onto solid ground to pat me on the back. I hate her. I hate myself. I should just reach up and kill her too.
“Vita, it’s okay,” she says soothingly, leaning down to whisper in my ear. “The soul is safe, right? Do you have the others?”
“I… no. I didn’t have time to grab them.”
I feel Penelope’s magic prod within me, grabbing the slimy corpses and pulling them out slowly. I almost demand for her to stop, but I know that would be stupid.
“Are they still there?”
I shut my eyes, annoyed by the tears trying to fall. Why does she care, all of a sudden?
“Yeah, the souls are still there. I guess I should go grab them before the Mistwatcher gets them.”
“Agreed,” Penelope says smoothly. “If you keep a few undigested, I might have a place you can practice with them, soon.”
I blink, looking up at her.
“Are you serious? I thought… can’t the Templars…?”
“You didn’t think working for me wouldn’t come with perks, did you Vita?” she answers, grinning with self-satisfaction.
I feel it, in that moment. She isn’t sorry. Did she plan this? No. The idea is ridiculous. She’s definitely happy with the outcome, though. She had the perfect excuse to murder my friend. Someone she hated more than anything. The sympathy she’s showing couldn’t be more fake. Her soul sings with such unrestrained glee, anything else is out of the question. And yet…
Somewhere I could practice necromancy. Somewhere I could bring Penta back. That bit of hope helps me push aside my grief for now, rushing back towards Taline’s house. Penelope jogs after, unable to keep up. I worm my tendrils around my limbs, trying to pull with my soul the way I pull with my muscles. It’s awkward, and I stumble many times. I feel it, though. Their strength working together. It’s not something I could have done before hatching. Even now, as I digest Remuslime’s soul bit by bit, I grow stronger. It looks like there might be diminishing returns; at this rate, I won’t end up as strong as Remuslime was before I annihilated him. It’s still a big jump, though. I’ll at least be stronger than most of my team, in soul if nothing else.
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Bursting back into the room, I see everyone we left behind rushing to care for all the people that got knocked out in the fight. Someone had bandaged Theodora’s neck but it was too little, too late. Her soul floats above her blood-soaked corpse, right next to that of the slime that controlled her. Melik is trying to wake his mom, but when I walk into the room he and many of the villagers turn weapons on me. Melik is holding Remus’s fucking magic sword! I raise my hands in surrender.
“I’m clean. Penelope just killed my... slime,” I answer coldly, spitting the words. “I’ll take the poison to prove it.”
I get more or less forced to drink the same stuff everyone else did, the poison aching through my bones. It’s no big deal now, though, since my friend is dead anyway. People relax considerably after that, and though I get a few hateful glares for having killed Theodora, everyone here understands firsthand that wasn’t really me.
They don’t understand it was my dumbass fault for not drinking the poison sooner, but I’m okay with not explaining. I collect the souls around the room, a plethora of goopy black orbs with human centers blossoming within, plus a double helping of Theodora’s blue-and-red sparky spirit, one with just a bit of slime on top.
“Vita, mom won’t wake up…!” Melik panics, glancing at me.
I give Taline a once-over. Her soul looks healthy and alive to me.
“She’s fine,” I dismiss. “Penelope will be here soon, she’ll wake everyone up.”
“W-wait!” he protests as I turn to leave again. “Where are you going?”
“I have to go finish my part of the job.”
The number of souls inside me now is less than the number of Nawra that were at the party. Others must have escaped. I killed Slimus already and have both the slime and human Theodora souls, though, so at this point I’m just cleaning up. With my senses reaching as far as I can push them I head around the island, knocking on or breaking down doors and whipping tendrils into the people possessed by Nawra. One by one, I pick up the missing and the stragglers, telling the hosts to head to Taline’s place so Penelope can get the dead ooze out of their necks. Afterwards, all that’s left is a final sweep around the vast fields to see if I sense any more Nawra souls.
Out here, walking slowly through farmland, I am stuck with nothing but my own thoughts. So quickly I’d gotten used to having Penta to talk to. I catch myself trying to think something at her more than a few times, only to be reminded she can no longer hear. She’s dead.
How much does that really matter, though? I’m a necromancer. Using death to my advantage is what I do. I could murder a nearby animal and talk to her right now if I really wanted to. But only if I put a bit of myself in her first. Only if I force her to submit to me. In some ways, hadn’t I already? I’d forced her to obey through violence rather than my talent. Why not the reverse? It almost seems like a stupid question— it feels like there should be so many reasons it isn’t a good idea. Yet I’m seriously considering it anyway.
It’s just… nice having a person that understands me. That actually understands me, probably even better than I understand myself. Maybe she wasn’t the best friend ever, and maybe she didn’t even consider me to be her friend. I liked her anyway, though. I want her back, and it isn’t a question of if I’ll do it. It’s just a question of how. Do I make her a Revenant, or should I just keep her inside until I figure out how to create life itself?
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Hah. I can’t even imagine how long it would take. It might be faster to try and learn to create Revenants that aren’t creepily devoted to me. Although, I guess I don’t really mind that aspect…
Should I mind that aspect? It feels like I should mind that aspect. Is it bad for people to like me, though? Why would it be?
Damnit. I wish Penta were here. Well… I mean she’s here, but I wish she were alive. I’ll have to go home and talk to Rowan and Lyn about it soon. I’m… definitely looking forward to going home. This has been kind of a shitty trip. I wanna hug Lyn’s soul.
...Also her in general.
Sure enough, there is a slime-host hiding out in the fields. They must have fled their body immediately, streaking out of the room to find an unpoisoned host rather than suffer death. Had I not been getting choked and possessed at the time, it wouldn’t have been a very effective strategy, yet here we are. They’re curled up in a vast field of grain, completely surrounded by tall stalks of wheat. It would have been damn hard for anyone else to find them, but it’s more or less a cakewalk for me. I walk over next to them, feeling the slime shiver in fear. I just feel tired. So I sit down, right on top of the shuddering, slime-infested farmer that knows death has come.
“Hey. So… Mister Slime. I can kill you quickly if you want,” I offer, not really knowing why. “I don’t know if it hurts, or how much it hurts, but it’s fast.”
The fearful face turns up to look at me, resignation filling his expression.
“I… I mean, we don’t feel pain,” he answers. “Our real bodies don’t, anyway. Not unless you’re hurting our host.”
I nod. Huh. I hadn’t known that.
“What I’m doing might still hurt,” I admit. “But, uh… if you want, you can swim into me.”
What am I saying?
“Y-you’ll still die,” I clarify. “I’m full of poison. But… y’know. If you want to talk a bit without freaking your host out any more. We can do that. If all you feel is my pain, then… the poison’s really not that bad.”
I put my hand on the farmer’s neck, waiting for him to choose.
“Why would you even offer this?” the slime asks, laughing humorlessly.
I shrug.
“I don’t know why, really. Maybe you will if you hop into my head, though.”
A moment’s hesitation passes before I get that familiar, revolting feeling of a Nawra swimming up my arm and settling into my neck. I get up off the farmer, letting him scurry a short way away from me as I sit back down on the ground and lose control of my body again.
It’s not the familiar feeling I was hoping for. This slime lacks Penta’s skill at allowing me to move myself while she was still technically in control. Instead, the panic that filled me when Remus was in control fills me again, and I nearly kill the slime on instinct. There’s no need for that this time, though. The moment he entered my arm, he started dying.
“What are you?” the slime breathes, feeling my tendrils curled dangerously around them. His voice is much deeper than I or Penta ever used it to be, sounding odd in my ears.
I don’t know. At this point, I don’t care. I’m me. I’ll figure the rest out later.
“It’s nice to feel someone care about us, though,” the slime whispers, staring up at the sky. “Maybe all those things your friend said weren’t so crazy.”
Maybe. But who can say now? We weren’t fast enough. You guys and the humans both deserve to live, but you’re the ones that were doing the torturing. If you’re going to make us choose...
“Then the choice is obvious,” the slime agrees. “The burden of a solution was always on us. Maybe if we had sought one from the start…”
Maybe. You never had enough time, though. You’re less than a couple weeks old.
“Hah. I guess we are. It feels like we’re all much older than that…”
Yeah, but I guess Penta was just a baby, huh?
“Who are you to talk? You’re just a kid.”
Wh— hey! You know I’m sixteen!
“It doesn’t matter. My old host would insist that sixteen years is still a kid. Your life has been pretty fucked up, you know? I can see why your friend was scared for you.”
Yeah.
I feel the slime coming apart in my neck, his soul straining to hold together.
“You haven’t done too badly for yourself, though,” the slime continues slowly, voice faltering. “You’re not perfect, but you’re trying. Maybe you don’t care about everyone, but I don’t really think you’re a...”
His last words fade away as his dead soul drifts down into my tendrils. I give him a light squeeze, storing the soul safely before standing up. The farmer stares at me in a mix of horror and confusion as I turn to them.
“Sorry about that,” I say. “The slime is dead now. I think that was the last of them.”
“What did you…?”
I shrug.
“Come on. Let’s get you checked out and immunized. You know Taline’s place?”
Soon I’m alone again, doing a second sweep and taking more time on it than I really need to. I return to a rather morbid scene; silent rows of people in line to get checked out by Penelope, flanked by groups of townsfolk crying out of relief, regret, or mourning. Someone put a cloth over Theodora’s tattooed corpse, a safe area to burn her presumably still being prepared on the grass-covered island. Many folks hug their families, embracing under their own power for the first time in too long.
“Vita, you’re back,” Penelope acknowledges blandly, her attention on a spell. “Were there more?”
“Yeah,” I breathe. “A few. I took care of them. We should be good.”
She nods, her hands still busy casting spells on the townsfolk.
“I’m going to start a large-scale Nawra-targeting plague here, just in case. It should last a few days and die out, doing absolutely nothing if we’ve done our job right. Just as a precaution.”
“Sounds good,” I answer, shrugging noncommittally. “One tried to jump in me. I need you to get another corpse out.”
“Then get in line,” Penelope answers.
Right. I walk to the back of the room to do just that. A now-conscious Seong approaches me, clutching their ribs.
“Ya okay, kid?” the poisoner hisses. “Ah hear you’re clean now?”
“Yeah,” I answer. “Sorry, Seong. I fucked up at the last minute.”
“No shit,” they growl. “Theodora’s death is on ya. She was a good woman.”
“Yeah,” I concede. “Sorry.”
Seong huffs out a raspy sigh.
“It happens. And ya saved the rest of us, too. Tha counts fer something.”
“Technically I just saved you, and then you saved everyone else.”
They let out a cracked, hoarse laugh.
“Close enough. And if ah’d been stronger or faster, tha one might not’ve gotten ya. He’s dead now though, ya?”
I nod, glowering at the memory.
“Extremely.”
“Good,” they hiss, patting me on the back. “Hey, Remus! Get yer old ass over here and apologize ta yer pupil.”
The old man in question heads towards me, his soul as temptingly massive as ever. Remus has a sheepish expression on the side of his face that can show it, and it’s clear from the looks he’s getting that there’s more than a bit of lingering resentment directed his way for bringing this crisis in the first place.
“Vita,” he greets me hesitantly.
“Hey pops,” I answer, grinning back at him. He winces.
“Please don’t ever call me that again.”
I chuckle. It’s not really that funny, but I do it anyway.
“Yeah. Sorry it took me so long to figure stuff out.”
“You’re sorry?” he protests. “Vita, this… all of this is my fault. If I had known what those slimes were, none of this would have happened. And I should have known. That’s my job as a teacher and senior hunter.”
I shrug, feeling the souls inside me and glancing towards Theodora’s corpse.
“We all make mistakes, boss. I don’t really feel like you need to apologize to me.”
“Then at least let me thank you. You and Penelope saved all of us from my mistake. I am proud to call you hunters.”
Oh yeah. Honestly, the whole ‘being a hunter’ thing seems so far away.
“Thanks, Remus,” I answer, my heart not in it.
Taline approaches us next, hugging Melik tightly with one arm as he clings to her side. The stocky, muscled woman nods to us.
“Vita. Thank you. Remus… can I ask a favor?”
“Of course, Taline.”
“Can you take Theodora’s body to Skyhope? I think you’ll need another metamancer to safely burn it.”
“Oh,” Remus says, glancing that way. “Of course. Metal inks?”
Taline nods.
“Yes, exactly. She and Melik would often… well. The point is, she’s doubtlessly still charged with mana. It’s kind of poetic… with her gone, no one here can give her a proper rest. I know it’ll be expensive, but I want to burn her as-is. It wouldn’t be right to strip her skin off and sell her art as materials. Even if it’s a waste, I—”
“I’ll take care of it,” Penelope answers, easily eavesdropping now that I’m almost next in line. “I’m already paying for the Templars who lost their lives on the way here, so I may as well.”
That causes a few raised eyebrows.
“Templars?” Remus asks.
“Dead Templars?” Seong hisses.
“That’s a story for our return trip, I think,” Penelope answers, smiling. “But let’s just say Remus will be meeting an old cataclysmic friend of his.”
The gray-haired man pales.
“Oh, fuck. Gladra…?”
“Your old flame,” Penelope jokes, eliciting groans all around. Holy shit, she’s so happy that she’s telling puns.
“Read the mood, Penelope,” I snap at her.
“That’s rich coming from—” she cuts herself off, biting her lip. “No. Never mind. You’re absolutely right. This is not the time or place.”
I scowl at her.
“Well, at least that apology actually seems genuine.”
She blinks, shocked. Yeah, she acted it out pretty well back there, I’ll give her that.
“Vita, I…”
“Not here,” I grumble. “Later.”
I’m way too mad to have it out with her right now. It’s just a pun, don’t kill the murderer. I need her to not be immolated by Templars, don’t kill the murderer. She can help get my friend back, don’t kill the murderer!
We wrap up soon after that, Penelope finishing her spells and clearing me of the last Nawra corpse. I copy Penta’s trick crossing the bridge, closing my meat-eyes and staring upwards for the entire walk. Then Penelope and I return to where the Templars are camped, where they immediately make us drink— surprise— more poison. At this point I’m really starting to feel the stuff, but they assure us both it’s not enough to kill us, even after multiple doses.
“So, how’d it go?” Gladra asks, her voice as irritated as it has always been since the Mistwatcher tendril had nearly killed us all.
“All of the Nawra are dead,” Penelope reports. “One human casualty.”
Gladra whistles.
“Damn. I have to admit, that’s pretty good, Vesuvius. Was it Remus?”
“No.”
“Then I don’t care. Pack up camp, boys! We’ve got a town to occupy.”
The order to ‘pack up camp’ was probably a joke, considering the entire thing is comprised of makeshift stick-structures and monster hides. Someone among the Templars is apparently quite an impressive survivalist, but there still isn’t much worth salvaging.
“You’re occupying Litia?” Penelope asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Of course we are! It’s an emergency situation! We have to double-check your work, after all. Can’t just trust the word of a pair of newbie hunters.”
“And when will the occupation of Litia end?” Penelope asks.
Gladra just pops up her visor to grin at us and walks away. I’m not nice enough to not appreciate seeing Penelope pissed off for the first time since all this went down, even if I know this is probably… well, bad.
“Well… at least it will get the High Templar off our back for a while,” Penelope comments, scowling.
A few hours later, Remus crosses the bridge to join us, carrying what I can somehow feel is Theodora’s body. Hmm. Do I have a corpse-sense now, or does it have to do with the fact that I have Theodora’s soul with me? Either way, I’m also surprised to see Seong following him, looking extra grim.
“Are you coming back to Skyhope with us, Seong?” I ask.
They grunt in annoyance.
“Like fuck ah’m staying in the same town as Gladra,” they hiss venomously. “Besides, ah need more time to berate Remus fer screwing us this bad.”
They punch him in the arm, though Remus doesn’t even flinch at the impact. He’s still wearing the casual clothes he had on in the village, though from his massive backpack I assume he’s bringing his armor with him. I don’t see his sword anywhere, though.
“Where’s your weapon?” I ask.
“The Templars ‘confiscated’ it,” Remus answers glumly. “I can’t really argue that I deserve to keep it, even if it is just Gladra being petty.”
“You guys don’t like Lady Karthala either, huh?” I ask.
Seong pulls down on their huge collar, revealing their face. From the lips all the way down the throat, to what appears to extend down onto the chest and beyond, Seong is a mess of hideous, permanently swollen scar tissue. A mess of huge red lumps and malshapen skin, it seems hard to believe they even survived whatever fire did that to them.
“Fuck Gladra,” Seong hisses again, putting their collar back in place.
Remus scratches at the burnt half of his own face, looking more sad than furious, but he nods his agreement.
“Anyway, we should be off. Thanks again, you two. I have been… considerably humbled.”
“No shit,” Seong growls. “Read the fucking books next time, you idiot.”
“I supplied most of the information in those books,” Remus grumbles.
“Clearly not all of it!”
The two friends bicker on the way home as I settle in for a long walk. As it turns out, one of the first things we’re going to need to do when we get home is what Slimus wanted to do, albeit with the objective of killing the other Nawra in the forest rather than save them. They have to be cleared out to the best of the guild’s ability, and stricter protocols against Nawra invasion will likely be in effect for years after this event. The chance that the public will be told any of what happened to our team and Litia village, however, is pretty much zero. Penelope and I are expected to keep mum on the subject.
Perhaps even worse, my name will be going into a lot of secret records. Templars, nobles, and possibly even the King would read a bland report on my talents. Eyes are on me now, and even if it’s only in a small way it’s the last thing I want when I’m trying to pretend to not be a necromancer. Penelope, annoyingly, has set herself up as my best lifeline. Being a servant of her house affords me the assumption that someone is probably handling me, and at the very least that someone would be annoyed if people got into their business. Noble politics, apparently.
The trip home isn’t too eventful. We’re actually attacked by a pretty big monster once, but Remus and Seong gut it before Penelope and I can even do anything. It’s quickly turned into a nice snack, both physically and spiritually. There’s not much to do or say, and soon enough the days pass and we make it back to Skyhope. There is, of course, one place I rush to first when I return. Home. Home to Lyn, to Rowan, to the kids and the shack. I have food to buy, hugs to give, and things to talk about.
Many, many things to talk about.
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